


Everything Changes

by kitkat0723



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Internal Conflict, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat0723/pseuds/kitkat0723
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam used to be one body with two heads, but then Dean got sent to Purgatory and everything changed. They both want what they once had back, but neither wants to come right out and say it. Then Sam gets hurt and everything changes again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Changes

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing, just the story idea. The characters belong to the CW. This is my first "Published" piece of Wincest. It's kind of a crappy ending, and I'm sorry about that. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Dean knew he was guilty of a lot of things. He knew some of those things could never be forgiven. He made peace with it a long time ago. The one thing he wished he could take back, have back in his life was Sam. Sure Sam was still alive, still breathing. Still there in every sense of the word. Except for the way Dean wanted, craved the most. It had always been just the two of them, even when Dad was still alive. Then one night everything boiled over and they became something more, closer than ever. Now? Nothing was right. Ever since Dean returned from Purgatory. Sam had removed himself in every way from Dean. At one point in their life, they were like two bodies with one head. Now it seemed like something was out of step, a record that kept skipping or an old Godzilla movie badly dubbed. 

      Dean wanted them back in sync with each other. He craved the unexpected intimacy. Random moments that made hunting a little easier. Laying in bed, holding each other. Sure he might claim that feelings and emotions belonged in chick flicks, but secretly he treasured and looked forward to those random moments. Even the ones that he swore made Sam more girly than ever, even though those moments made his heart skip beats. Sam reaching over to take his hand, or laying across Baby’s front seat to lay his head on Dean’s shoulder or in his lap. Dean wanted those moments back, he just wasn’t sure how to get them back. 

    -------------------------------

        It was slowly killing him. Being this close to his brother, yet as distant as the moon. When you live practically in someone else’s pocket and can feel, hell taste the awkwardness between you and that person, something needed to be done. But how? Sam asked himself that question over and over as he grabbed two glasses and the bottle of Wild Turkey from the kitchen and walked down to Dean’s room. Dean hated to talk about feelings and Sam really didn’t want to force the issue, but he needed something. When he approached Dean’s door, he took a deep breath, then knocked. He heard Dean’s call to come in and opened the door. Dean sat on his bed, a bed they’d slept in together countless times, laptop at his side. He looked up at Sam, those candy green eyes flashing. 

    “What’s up?” Sam couldn’t trust his voice, so he cleared his throat, and held up the bottle. Dean gave a nod of assent, so Sam walked completely into the room still silent. 

        He sat at the small couch Dean had in his room and poured them each a couple fingers of the whiskey. After passing Dean his glass, they sat drinking in silence. Of course nothing got by Dean, so he broke the silence first. 

     “You didn’t just want a silent drink Sam. What’s going on?” Sam shook his head, took another deep breath. 

     “I...I wanted to talk,” he waits for Dean to shut him down. Talking about things was NOT the Winchester way. 

     “About what?” Sam downs the rest of the Whiskey in his glass, looks Dean dead in the eyes. 

     “Us.” He can see the denial ready to pour from Dean’s lips. Of course he doesn’t want to talk. He never does. Dean holds out his glass and Sam takes it, refills it. He can practically see the wheels spinning in Dean’s head. Trying to think of a way out of it. As he hands Dean his glass back, their fingers brush, lingering a moment too long. 

     “What about us?” Dean yanks his hand away, shocking Sam and make him instantly miss the closeness they once shared. Sam is stunned. He can barely form a sentence. 

     “You.” Sam shakes his head, stands up to leave. “Never mind. Bad idea. Night Dean.” Sam makes it to the door before Dean speaks again. 

    “I what Sam?” Sam closes his eyes, squares his shoulders then turns around. 

    “You never talk about what happened.” Dean gets up from the bed, causing Sam to step back until his back hits the door. Instead of approaching him, Dean walks to the small table beside his couch and and picks up the whiskey bottle. 

    “It was Purgatory Sam. There’s nothing to say. It was like being in a constant war. Hunting and being hunted. It sucked.” Dean had never been one for words. Sam nods at him, back still on the door. “That wasn’t about us.” Dean turns back towards the bed, doesn’t see Sam wince. 

    “Why didn’t you-.” Sam breaks off, not know how to phrase a question. He has to remind himself he’s fairly articulate. Dean sighs pushing a hand through his golden blond hair. 

    “I didn’t think you would want someone as unclean as I am.” Sam is stunned. His brother unclean? Dean’s been and is a lot of things, unclean isn’t a word he’d use to describe Dean Winchester. 

    “I thought it was because of me. Because I didn’t look for you.” Sam steps over and pours himself a drink, sliding back down on the couch. 

   “Why should I blame you for trying to be happy? To be normal?” 

   “Because it’s always been just the two of us.” Dean shook his head. He would never blame Sam for trying to find the life he should of had from the beginning. 

   “I don’t blame you Sam. I never have.” Sam nods and they lapse into the silence again. It’s still awkward between them. 

    After a while, Sam leaves, making an excuse about researching something for a case. Dean leaned back against his headboard, eyes closed and sighed. Well that went well.   
  


They don’t talk about it and Dean starts to think he made the entire thing up. They hunt, drive, eat, do everything except sleep together. It’s slowly driving Dean crazy. He puts up a front like always, pretends it’s not killing him. It’s taking all the control and patience Dean has not to scream about it, the unfairness of it all, at the top of his lungs. Then Sam gets hurt on a hunt, not bad, thank goodness and everything changes again. 

              ----------------------------------

   “Just hold on Sam.” Dean’s racing back to their motel, Sam bleeding in the passenger seat. 

   “Just….Hurry up.” 

           He was trying. He fishtales his way into the motel parking lot, double parking by their room. He hurriedly exited Baby, racing around to the passenger side, getting Sam out of the Impala, and quickly into their room. It’s taken all of Dean’s strength, but he manages to half drag, half carry Sam into the bathroom. 

  “It’s….Okay,” Sam was trying to breathe through the worst of the pain. Dean shakes his head, small half, you’re crazy smile on his face, and eases Sam out of his clothing. 

       Dean tries to think of anything else, except for his Greek God like little brother before him, in nothing but his boxers. Sam looked down at the blood coming from his stomach. 

   “Not….Bad,” he tried to smile, but he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Dean doesn’t bother with a response, just tries to get the blood cleaned up. 

      After Dean cleaned up the worst of the blood, he maneuvers Sam back into the room, lays him on one of the beds. 

   “This is gonna hurt,” Dean tells him as he tries to get his hands to stop shaking long enough to thread the needle for the stitches Sam needs. Sam just shrugs, lays his head against the pillow, closes his eyes against the pain. 

      Dean tries to work quickly, watching Sam for any signs of distress, but Sam shows none. By the time Dean finishes the neat row of stitches, Sam is passed out, which Dean thinks is likely for the best.  Dean cleans up the mess, then goes to take a shower, letting his hands finally shake like they wanted too. How many close calls was one allotted before the big guy finally called your number? As he showers off the hunt, his mind is on his little brother, only a couple dozen feet away, yet as far away as Pluto.     

   ------------------------

   When Sam finally wakes up, the small lamp between the two beds is on, and Dean was snoring lightly from his own bed. Sam winces as he sits up, then he slowly makes his way to the bathroom. Once he’s done, he goes to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water out, drinks half where he stands. He sighs and closes his eyes, leaning up against it. It really felt like he’d been run over by a truck. 

     “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Sam jumped, damn near to the ceiling, and spun around towards Dean who was still lying in his bed. 

     “Dammit Dean!” Sam fell back against the fridge, willing his heart to settle. 

     “Well?” Dean demanded, eyebrows raised, waiting for Sam to answer him. 

     “I’m thirty two. I can get up and piss on my own.” Sam felt something wet sliding down against his stomach and looked down. A small trickle of blood, was moving down his stomach. One of the stitches had come loose a bit. 

    “Son of a bitch!” Before Sam could say or do anything, Dean was up out of bed and crossing the motel room, shoving Sam into one of the chairs at the table. 

   “Dean, it’s fine.” 

   “Quiet Sam!” Dean hurried to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and the first aid kit. 

  “Dean it’s fine. Just one of the stitches pulled. Restretching.” Dean muttered under his breath, starting re thread a needle. Sam sat his much larger hands on top of his brothers. “Dean. It’s OKAY. Look, it even stopped bleeding,” Sam pointed to the row of stitches while still covering Dean’s hand with his own. Dean, kneeling at Sam’s feet, looked up at him. 

       Sam forgot all about the past and the whole not talking thing they were doing. He leaned forward and laid his lips on Dean’s. The kiss was brief and small, Sam quickly pulling back and clearing his throat. 

  “Sorry.” Sam went to stand up, put some distance between them, but Dean, pushed him back into the chair. Sam looked at him stunned then groaned as Dean’s lips crashed onto his and his hands reached up to move through Sam’s hair. 

      Dean finally stood up, not breaking the kiss and moved into Sam’s lap and moved against him. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, sliding the shirt he was wearing up, moving his hands up and down his back. Dean groaned and ground himself against Sam, tugging at the ends of his hair. Sam pulled away first, leaning his head against Dean’s shoulder. Dean shivered as Sam’s breath moved along the skin of his neck. 

   “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sam can’t help but worry. He doesn’t want to start this up again, no matter how bad he wants it, just to lose that closeness to his brother all over again. Dean pulled away slightly and Sam felt his stomach drop, but Dean kept his hands in Sam’s hair. He looked his little brother in the eyes, and told him,”I’m sure.”   

         Dean watched the emotions play over Sam’s face. Saw him struggle. Sam cautiously leaned in and laid his lips on Dean’s. Holding him into place, the kiss grew more urgent and Sam’s hands began to roam. Dean’s shirt landed on the floor somewhere and Sam’s mouth landed on his shoulder. Dean groaned and moved down against Sam, who was preoccupied with sucking a mark into Dean’s collarbone. As Sam’s lips connected to Dean’s again, his hands moved down to Dean’s ass, massaging it. Their tongues connected, moved against one another. Dean ran his hands over Sam’s shoulders, down his arms. Sam rained kisses over Dean’s neck, collarbone, but Dean needed more. He moved out of Sam’s lap and walked over to the bed, Sam following. When Sam got close enough, Dean pulled him down for a kiss. Dean let him go, then placed a trail of kisses down the length of Sam’s torso. He gently placed small kisses over the stitches, down to the waistband of Sam’s boxers. He looked up at Sam, green eyes glowing in the lamp light. Sam nodded his head, silently answering Dean’s unspoken question. After receiving the answer he hoped for, Dean slid Sam’s boxers down, and leaned in, kissing where his fingers just were. He smelled Sam even more, it was a scent that always made him hard instantly, and after so long, Dean was surprised, it still could. He drew Sam slowly into his mouth, enjoying the groan Sam let loose. Sam’s hands itched to touch his brother, but he knew if he did, this dream might shatter. Dean let his tongue work over Sam, his little brother’s breath now coming in slow shallow pants. Dean took him just to the point of orgasm, before Sam pushed him away. If this was going to be a one last time thing, Sam wanted all that he could have. He bent down, gripping Dean’s face and kissed him hard.  He pulled away looking into Dean’s lust blown eyes. 

   “We’re not...It’s been a while,” Sam sits next to Dean, puts his head in his hands. Sam can feel the bed shift as he gets up. Sam can hear the sound of one of the duffle’s being opened. He looks up, sees Dean pull a bottle of lube from his duffle. Sam looks at him puzzled. Dean shrugs sitting back in the bed. 

   “Can never be unprepared.” Sam laughs, shakes his head. He leans in catching Dean’s lips again. He takes the bottle from Dean, pushing his brother back into the pillow. Dean’s breath comes out in a rush, as Sam leans over him. 

   “Sam. Your stitches.” 

   “They’re fine.” If something didn’t happen soon, he was going to explode. Dean shakes his head. He should have known Sam would be stubborn, but that’s what he loved most about his dorky little brother. 

       After Sam stretches him open, he moves between his brothers spread legs, slowly eases into him. Dean groans as Sam moves as slow as he possibly could, making him feel everything. Every nerve ending is drawn tight. It’s all Dean can do not to rush things along. Sam is staring at him the whole time, makes Dean feel as if his soul is coming apart. Sam, finally seated all the way inside of Dean, again, pauses, captures Dean’s lips in a kiss.    
 “Sam move.” Sam laughs, and pulls almost all the way out of Dean, then pushes back in. He doesn’t want to rush this, he doesn’t know if things will go back to the way they were before the fight, or if things will go back to being just the everyday, them not having this part of their relationship any longer. 

He doesn’t rush, but he’s no longer going slow. He wants to make his brother come apart again, loves the way Dean looks. Dean’s cock between them is leaking onto his stomach, bouncing every time Sam hits home. He shifts, ever so slightly, hits that spot inside of Dean. If they weren’t the way they were, Dean would have came up off the bed. “FUCK.” Sam laughs, moves again, hitting that spot again. 

  Dean starts to see white as Sam keeps hitting his prostate again and again. The blunt nails of his fingers, scrape along Sam’s arms. His hips move on their accord, meeting Sam thrust for thrust. Sam can feel the orgasm building, white hot and blinding as he moves in and out of Dean, harder with each thrust. His lips find Dean’s as he pushes into him over and over. Sam wraps one hand around Dean’s hard cock. A few strokes and Dean is coming, his brothers name pouring from his lips. Dean clenches tight around Sam making Sam groan. He moves a few more times before coming, spilling himself inside Dean. He lets his brothers cock go, eases slowly out of him. He rolls over, laying on the bed. He can feel a small trickle of blood coming from the stitches but he’s too far gone to care. 

 Dean moves slowly off the bed, heads to the bathroom. He grabs a washcloth, wipes himself off. Sam’s is still laying in bed when Dean gets back into the room. Dean can see a small strip of blood coming from the stitches. 

“Dammit Sam!” Sam just looks over, fucked out look on his face. 

“It’s fine Dean.” 

“No. It’s not fine. You’re bleeding again.”    
“Dean. It’s okay.” Dean glares at him, goes to get another wash cloth. When he leaves the bathroom, Sam is right there. “Dean. I’m fine. It’s just a little blood. We’ve both had worse. Just come back to bed. We’ve got to drive back tomorrow. We both need sleep.” Sam knows if he doesn’t get Dean’s mind off him being hurt, Dean will drive himself crazy. “Lets sleep. Please.” 

“Alright fine. But I swear-.” Sam cuts him off with another kiss.    
“That if I get hurt worse, or it busts back open, you’ll kick my ass into next week. Blah blah. We’re both tired.” Dean can see the strain now, sees that Sam’s tired. 

“Alright.” They both go back to bed, and Sam curls himself around Dean. After so many long nights alone, it’s a relief to feel his little brothers breath blowing over his shoulder. Dean closes his eyes, a small smile on his face. He can only hope things stay like this, but with the way their lives were, he knows it won’t be like this every day. He had his little brother back, in every way. That’s all that mattered to him. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and love are always welcomed! Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
